"Trainer, how were my results?"
With her debut race drawing closer by the day, the standards for training had grown increasingly strict. During this period, Kaito hadn't had a moment to breathe. Outside of daily training, he poured everything he had into studying the knowledge a proper trainer was supposed to master.
His brain—dulled by years of college slacking—was finally creaking back into motion as he sprinted toward the academic peak he once knew in high school. Back then, learning this stuff would've been effortless. Unfortunately, that version of himself was long gone, and now he could feel the decline.
Still, with his accumulated knowledge—and the experience he'd built up in the game world—Tokai Teio's performance kept improving. Today's time was 0.2 seconds faster than yesterday's.
Kaito nodded. "Not bad. Keep this pace up."
According to the trainer's handbook, if a horse girl's condition was poor or even just average, training intensity should be adjusted downward. And before a race, training time should be reduced to ensure she had enough stamina on race day.
That part, Kaito understood.
But the first part…
He narrowed his eyes and studied Teio's face.
What exactly counted as "excellent condition" versus "good condition"? In the game, you could tell from facial expressions and ear movement. But here, Tokai Teio was bursting with energy all the time. Did that mean she was in top form, or just good form?
"Trainer? What's wrong—are you dazzled by my face?" Teio planted her hands on her hips, pride written all over her expression. "Ordinary people don't get the privilege of admiring the great Tokai Teio's heroic looks, you know. But since you're my trainer, I'll grant you special access—feel free to stare as much as you want. Just make sure you reward me afterward. Got it?"
Seeing her act like a spoiled kid, Kaito couldn't help reaching out and ruffling her hair.
Personality-wise, Teio really was a child—and that was exactly what made her so lovable. If she could've accompanied him into that game world back then, Kaito was certain things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.
Even so, as the only truly obedient horse girl, Teio had been his sole comfort in that other world. Even the heart icon above her head had been a deeper, brighter red than anyone else's.
"You'll get a big reward," Kaito said. "Didn't I promise we'd go out this weekend? I'll spend the whole day playing with you then."
"Yay!" Teio beamed.
At that moment, Seiun Sky sidled up beside them.
"Trai~ner~," she called, leaning in close and tilting her head toward him.
…Is she asking me to pat her?
Fine. He loved patting big cats' heads anyway.
Unlike Teio's smooth hair, Sky's was soft—almost like cotton—and carried a faint, pleasant scent. No wonder people called Seiun Sky the ultimate pillow. As long as you were with her, insomnia simply didn't exist.
"Ehehe~" Sky let out a light laugh.
The instant Teio heard it, the sparkle vanished from her eyes.
"Sky-chan, that's so unfair… You had to show up right when the trainer was rewarding me…"
"What's the problem?" Sky replied calmly. "He's my trainer too."
Every time she heard those words, Teio felt her blood boil. The trainer was hers—hers alone! And yet, somehow, Sky had ended up signing a contract with him too.
That shameless homewrecker!
More than once, Teio had discovered the trainer lying down together with Seiun Sky. Over time, she'd developed a sort of sixth sense—whenever her heart started throbbing restlessly, it meant the trainer was curled up next to Sky again. Following that feeling, she'd always find them.
If he wants to sleep that badly, then I should sleep with him!
My body's softer than yours, and I'm way more comfortable! There's no way the trainer wouldn't like me more!
Watching Kaito pat both her and Sky at the same time, Teio puffed out her cheeks. Fine—this weekend, she'd make him repay everything in full.
After indulging them enough, Kaito cleared his throat and sent the two horse girls back to training, even as they continued rubbing their heads against him. His goal was to clear this game properly—there was no room for slacking.
Things like staying up late, lack of sleep, or skipping classes—those blood-pressure–raising habits—were absolutely forbidden.
Elsewhere, in a dimly lit room, Manhattan Cafe sat across from a brown-haired girl.
The other girl was a celebrity at Tracen Academy—Agnes Tachyon, infamous for her title of "mad scientist." She spent every day holed up in her laboratory, doing nothing but research.
In her quest to uncover the mysteries of horse girls, she would secretly slip her experimental results to others, turning them into unwilling test subjects.
That atrocious personality naturally made everyone keep their distance from her. If Agnes Tachyon had any redeeming qualities at all, there were probably only two.
First, as a horse girl, she was exceptionally strong—on the rare occasions she trained seriously, she displayed terrifying potential.
Second, she was beautiful. A well-proportioned figure, smooth legs beneath a short skirt—round, full, and pale as jade. Perhaps because she spent all her time hidden away from the sun, her skin was even whiter than most, giving her a strangely unhealthy yet alluring beauty.
It was this very Agnes Tachyon whom Kaito always visited after spending time in Cafe's room. The two shared the same space, separated by a curtain. Because Tachyon constantly caused trouble, the student council had assigned Cafe to supervise her—to keep her from harming others.
Cafe disliked Tachyon. Experimenting on others was one thing, but Tachyon didn't even spare the trainer. Every time Cafe came by, she'd see Tachyon forcing Kaito to drink some bizarre concoction. Tachyon always claimed it was harmless—but just looking at the color was enough to know something was wrong.
And yet today, Cafe had come to Tachyon with a request.
"The trainer said it again," Cafe murmured.
"Said what?" Tachyon asked.
"He said this world is a game. That we're fake. That we're a game, puppets, NPCs—just with free will."
"Oh?" Tachyon swirled the vial in her hand thoughtfully.
"We should take him to see a psychologist," Cafe said quietly. "If this keeps going, I'm afraid the trainer's condition will only get worse."
Cafe herself had once been in a similar state. If not for a close friend who never left her side and helped pull her out of it, she might have suffered serious mental issues too.
She wanted to help the trainer—but she was bad with words. She was a good listener, not someone who could offer answers. In that regard, the ill-tempered Agnes Tachyon was far more capable than she was.
"Seeing a psychologist isn't a bad idea," Tachyon said. "Based on Subject Guinea Pig's symptoms, he might be suffering from dissociative identity disorder. Or, as you say, he could be drifting between two worlds, unable to tell which one he's in. If there really is a system-controlled game world, I'd love to see it for myself. If I ran into a puppet-version of him there, wouldn't that mean I could do whatever I wanted?"
"Tachyon, I'm talking about something very serious," Cafe frowned.
"Bring him to my room," Tachyon said flatly. "I'll play psychologist this time—and find out exactly what's going on with him."